LMPYITP: The Random Passages

Please Sit Down, You Make Me Feel Giddy

The frame of the giant picture that hung above the head of the bed greeted me when I opened my eyes on Sunday morning. I couldn't see the photo because of the position I was in but I knew exactly what it was. It was that famous one of the Beatles dressed in their Sgt. Pepper outfits. Just one of the many pieces of Beatles' memorabilia that decorated the flat.

Liam wasn't lying next to me but I wasn't too surprised. He usually got up fairly early in the morning to go for a run. But today wasn't a running day.

Today was the day of the Football League Cup.

Man City was headed to Wembley Stadium to take on fellow Northerners, Liverpool, for that coveted Capital One Cup, and we had first class tickets. I hoped for my first Man City match to be one held at the Etihad but...things change.

I got out of bed and left the room. I didn't know if Liam was in or out so I figured my best bet was to go and see.

Upon entering the living room, I found him sitting on the couch engrossed in whatever he had brought up on his laptop.

"Morning." I said as I stood behind the couch and rested my arms on the top of it.

"Mornin'." He said without diverting his eyes from his computer.

"What are you doing?" I began stroking his right earlobe.

"Nothin'." He replied quietly.

But that was a complete lie. A quick glance at the computer screen and I knew exactly what he was doing. And it was definitely something.

I went to the kitchen and brought up the web browser on my phone. I entered what I needed to in the Google search bar and was on the same site as Liam in a matter of seconds.

"Oh for God's sake!" I exclaimed as I read it all over.

This shit started a few days prior when the Brit Awards took place. I was alone at Noel's and had something else on the TV. I wasn't bothered to watch the Awards show. No one I liked was up for anything so I had no interest.

No one Liam cared for was up for anything either but that didn't stop him from taking to Twitter to voice his opinions. From making fun of people's outfits to calling them "massive cunts", he made sure his voice was heard...in that famously cryptic way he'd perfected over time.

He took a break from it for a couple days. Then came the day of the boxing match featuring a boy from Bury who Liam called a "Rock n Roll star". The boy ended up losing.

The tweets kept coming into the day of the match by way of Richard Ashcroft's lyrics...and a few Oasis ones as well. Maybe he was spacing his thoughts out since they were probably longer than a hundred and forty characters. Or maybe he was just being a prick.

Every few minutes, the Twittersphere was enlightened by some nugget of "summat". And then finally his magnum opus arrived.

"Still a Cunt bruv"

'Three guesses who that's about.' I thought as I stared at it.

It didn't take the Internet long to try and figure it out. Liam was branded the new Kanye West by news outlets and social media alike. Some people tweeted telling him to go back to bed. Others called him a washed up old wank stain. And then a few just sat back and waited for him to say his next line.

He shut his mouth after that last one. I figured he might say something about the match but he never did. He tweeted about football before. And today was a very big day for it.